Reclaimed
Page 2
CHAPTER ONE
Nix
Ten Months Later
“Kadence, did you hear me?” I stop at the threshold of our kitchen and watch as my wife stands at the sink. Her long hair sits disheveled on top of her head; knots and frizz hidden by the quick up do. Long gone is the happy, carefree woman who nearly knocked me on my ass with just a smile that afternoon in my son’s classroom.
“Huh?” She looks up from the foamy water, her eyes catching mine, but it’s like they don’t lock. Void of any emotion, as if she’s looking straight through me. I have no idea if she even realizes I’ve been standing here for five minutes.
“I need to go to the club.” I repeat my first statement and walk toward her.
“W-what?” She shakes her head out of the fog she seems to have settled into since Harlow was born.
“Shit’s goin’ down with one of Beau’s girls. I have to sort it out,” I lie to her, stopping at the counter to give her time to process.
“You can’t leave!” Her voice quivers as she drops the cup she’s been cleaning for five solid minutes and wipes her hands down the front of one of my old club tees, and her ratty yoga pants. “Harlow will be awake soon, Nix.” Her eyes flash with panic and her voice fills with distress. Just like every other time she has panicked with the apprehension of being left alone. I don’t know when it began, when our perfectly constructed life started to fall around us, but over the last seven weeks, something has changed. Something I wasn’t prepared for.
“You’ll be fine, baby. We talked about this,” I try to reason with her, but I know no matter what I say, it won’t make a difference; it never does. Kadence will freak. She’ll break and then she will act like everything is fine. The sooner I get this done, the better.
“Nix, I can’t.” Her shaky voice almost brings me undone, but I have to stay strong; this is the plan. “You can’t leave me alone with her. What if she cries and doesn’t…” she trails off, her eyes growing large as she concocts some fucked-up shit in her head. “Oh, God, don’t do this to me. I need you. Don’t leave me.” She walks forward into my space, her hands coming to my leather cut. I see the shake in them before she touches me, can feel the panic in them as she holds me tightly against her. My wife is so fucking lost—lost in her own world of hopelessness. I don’t even know how I can help.
“Z is here. You’ll be fine.” I try to reassure her with the news that she won’t be alone entirely. I know Z is only eleven, he should be doing what other kids his age are doing, but leaving him home will make it easier on me, on all of us.
“But Z can’t help me like you. What if I do something wrong?” Even the way she asks that question has my heart breaking. How could she think she will fuck this up?
Taking her shoulders in my hands, I bend at the waist, get in her face and lock my eyes with hers. “Kadence, I have to go. You’ve got this, babe. I’ll be thirty minutes,” I try to encourage her, while watching her reaction carefully. I know this situation is fucked. I’ve been living it the last seven weeks, but as much as I want to take her in my arms, tell her everything is okay, I can’t. I won’t tell her that, because it’s not. She’s not okay. We’re not okay. The longer I try to step around the issues, the longer it’s going to take for her to see that something is wrong. I need my wife back. I need that spark she brings to my gut when she smiles at me. I don’t know where or when I lost her, but the Kadence I know doesn’t live here anymore.
She looks up at me, disoriented. Her innocent eyes, bewildered, like I’m instructing her on the hardest mission she will ever encounter and it guts me. Where is the woman who took me by the balls and put me in my place? Where is the woman who stood before me, daring me to judge her and her scars? The proud woman I fell in love with is a shell of a woman, and like the coward I am, I don’t know if I can bear to look at her anymore.
“Thirty minutes,” I repeat, and then lean down, placing my lips to hers. Unlike in the past, when her body would mold into mine and her lips would accept me, I’m met with thin, lifeless lips instead of the softness I once knew. The hardness of her kiss leaves me feeling cold and does nothing to soothe the concern that builds inside of me daily. It does the opposite and proves to me that every one of my concerns are warranted.
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t leave me.” She holds on to me with a death grip and it’s then I realize that if I’m going to leave, I have to do it now.
“But I do, Kadence. I fuckin’ love you more than anythin’.”
“Then don’t leave.”
“Admit you need help,” I counter, praying she would open up to someone, to anyone.
“Just leave.” She pushes at my chest and I feel like a sorry excuse for a husband. A fucking failure who can’t even bring his own wife happiness anymore.
“You know I don’t want to, but I really have to go,” I continue to lie. I don’t have any shit going down in the club. In fact, life has been fucking great with the club. If only I could say the same with my marriage.
I have no fucking idea what I’m doing, no idea if I’m helping, or making it worse. The last thing I want to do is push her away, but the woman is already so far gone, I’m planning a search and rescue party as we speak.
“I have my cell.” I turn when she doesn’t reply and I force myself not to look back into her eyes. I can’t let her deter me. I walk out of the kitchen and find Z in the front of the TV.
Nix
Ten Months Later
“Kadence, did you hear me?” I stop at the threshold of our kitchen and watch as my wife stands at the sink. Her long hair sits disheveled on top of her head; knots and frizz hidden by the quick up do. Long gone is the happy, carefree woman who nearly knocked me on my ass with just a smile that afternoon in my son’s classroom.
“Huh?” She looks up from the foamy water, her eyes catching mine, but it’s like they don’t lock. Void of any emotion, as if she’s looking straight through me. I have no idea if she even realizes I’ve been standing here for five minutes.
“I need to go to the club.” I repeat my first statement and walk toward her.
“W-what?” She shakes her head out of the fog she seems to have settled into since Harlow was born.
“Shit’s goin’ down with one of Beau’s girls. I have to sort it out,” I lie to her, stopping at the counter to give her time to process.
“You can’t leave!” Her voice quivers as she drops the cup she’s been cleaning for five solid minutes and wipes her hands down the front of one of my old club tees, and her ratty yoga pants. “Harlow will be awake soon, Nix.” Her eyes flash with panic and her voice fills with distress. Just like every other time she has panicked with the apprehension of being left alone. I don’t know when it began, when our perfectly constructed life started to fall around us, but over the last seven weeks, something has changed. Something I wasn’t prepared for.
“You’ll be fine, baby. We talked about this,” I try to reason with her, but I know no matter what I say, it won’t make a difference; it never does. Kadence will freak. She’ll break and then she will act like everything is fine. The sooner I get this done, the better.
“Nix, I can’t.” Her shaky voice almost brings me undone, but I have to stay strong; this is the plan. “You can’t leave me alone with her. What if she cries and doesn’t…” she trails off, her eyes growing large as she concocts some fucked-up shit in her head. “Oh, God, don’t do this to me. I need you. Don’t leave me.” She walks forward into my space, her hands coming to my leather cut. I see the shake in them before she touches me, can feel the panic in them as she holds me tightly against her. My wife is so fucking lost—lost in her own world of hopelessness. I don’t even know how I can help.
“Z is here. You’ll be fine.” I try to reassure her with the news that she won’t be alone entirely. I know Z is only eleven, he should be doing what other kids his age are doing, but leaving him home will make it easier on me, on all of us.
“But Z can’t help me like you. What if I do something wrong?” Even the way she asks that question has my heart breaking. How could she think she will fuck this up?
Taking her shoulders in my hands, I bend at the waist, get in her face and lock my eyes with hers. “Kadence, I have to go. You’ve got this, babe. I’ll be thirty minutes,” I try to encourage her, while watching her reaction carefully. I know this situation is fucked. I’ve been living it the last seven weeks, but as much as I want to take her in my arms, tell her everything is okay, I can’t. I won’t tell her that, because it’s not. She’s not okay. We’re not okay. The longer I try to step around the issues, the longer it’s going to take for her to see that something is wrong. I need my wife back. I need that spark she brings to my gut when she smiles at me. I don’t know where or when I lost her, but the Kadence I know doesn’t live here anymore.
She looks up at me, disoriented. Her innocent eyes, bewildered, like I’m instructing her on the hardest mission she will ever encounter and it guts me. Where is the woman who took me by the balls and put me in my place? Where is the woman who stood before me, daring me to judge her and her scars? The proud woman I fell in love with is a shell of a woman, and like the coward I am, I don’t know if I can bear to look at her anymore.
“Thirty minutes,” I repeat, and then lean down, placing my lips to hers. Unlike in the past, when her body would mold into mine and her lips would accept me, I’m met with thin, lifeless lips instead of the softness I once knew. The hardness of her kiss leaves me feeling cold and does nothing to soothe the concern that builds inside of me daily. It does the opposite and proves to me that every one of my concerns are warranted.
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t leave me.” She holds on to me with a death grip and it’s then I realize that if I’m going to leave, I have to do it now.
“But I do, Kadence. I fuckin’ love you more than anythin’.”
“Then don’t leave.”
“Admit you need help,” I counter, praying she would open up to someone, to anyone.
“Just leave.” She pushes at my chest and I feel like a sorry excuse for a husband. A fucking failure who can’t even bring his own wife happiness anymore.
“You know I don’t want to, but I really have to go,” I continue to lie. I don’t have any shit going down in the club. In fact, life has been fucking great with the club. If only I could say the same with my marriage.
I have no fucking idea what I’m doing, no idea if I’m helping, or making it worse. The last thing I want to do is push her away, but the woman is already so far gone, I’m planning a search and rescue party as we speak.
“I have my cell.” I turn when she doesn’t reply and I force myself not to look back into her eyes. I can’t let her deter me. I walk out of the kitchen and find Z in the front of the TV.
